{"title":"Index","authors":"","doi":"10.5406/j.ctvz0hcn6.21","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/j.ctvz0hcn6.21","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":193833,"journal":{"name":"Voicing the Cinema","volume":"9 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2020-03-16","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"122080434","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Acknowledgments","authors":"","doi":"10.5406/j.ctvz0hcn6.3","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/j.ctvz0hcn6.3","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":193833,"journal":{"name":"Voicing the Cinema","volume":"193 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2020-03-16","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"115630240","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Voicing the CinemaPub Date : 2020-03-01DOI: 10.5622/illinois/9780252043000.003.0005
{"title":"Pinewood’s Fiddler Fans Goldwyn’s Folly","authors":"","doi":"10.5622/illinois/9780252043000.003.0005","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5622/illinois/9780252043000.003.0005","url":null,"abstract":"This chapter examines archived correspondence between the Los Angeles–based Goldwyn Studios and London’s Pinewood Studios during the creation of Fiddler on the Roof’s four-track sound design. Goldwyn’s sound team argued that Pinewood’s mixers were not capable of delivering a Hollywood-caliber soundtrack. In response, Pinewood accused Goldwyn of not adhering to the industry standards for stereo mixing. Taken together, these communications expose how competitive the postproduction sound industry was for premier Hollywood projects during the early 1970s. While this chapter is devoted to the analysis of the voices of the sound practitioners, the author argues that the correspondence regarding Fiddler’s soundtrack also reveals the aesthetic ideals of both Goldwyn and Pinewood at a time when the definition of a Hollywood film was in contention.","PeriodicalId":193833,"journal":{"name":"Voicing the Cinema","volume":"30 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2020-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"125963063","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Silencing and Sounding the Voice in Transition-Era French Cinema","authors":"H. Lewis","doi":"10.5406/j.ctvz0hcn6.6","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/j.ctvz0hcn6.6","url":null,"abstract":"This essay examines two contrasting aesthetics of the voice in early 1930s French cinema and the role that music played in each. Filmed theater, or théâtre filmé, emerged from the conception that sound cinema was primarily a recording medium. In French theatrical adaptations, the speaking voice took precedence over all other elements of the soundtrack. The author argues, however, that in théâtre filmé, speech takes on almost musical qualities, folding music and sound effects into the voice itself. Avant-garde filmmakers took a contrasting approach, rejecting the restriction of camera movement imposed by the theatrical model and hoping to recapture some of the visual freedom characteristic of silent cinema. These filmmakers told their stories with as little spoken dialogue as possible, incorporating music prominently into their soundtracks in order to silence the speaking voice. Though the intent may have been to strip the voice of its dominance within the soundtrack, these directors’ strategic denial of the voice often granted it a much greater significance. By examining early experiments with the voice on the soundtrack in the transition years—including those by Jean Renoir, René Clair, and Jean Grémillon—the author’s analysis expands the concept of “vococentrism,” as articulated by Michel Chion and David Neumeyer, to include different models of understanding the voice in cinema beyond those found in classical Hollywood and helps shed light on competing conceptions of the voice’s role in cinema before practices became codified.","PeriodicalId":193833,"journal":{"name":"Voicing the Cinema","volume":"1 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2020-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"131130993","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Girls’ Voices, Boys’ Stories, and Self-Determination in Animated Films since 2012","authors":"Robynn J. Stilwell","doi":"10.5406/j.ctvz0hcn6.11","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/j.ctvz0hcn6.11","url":null,"abstract":"Since its first feature, Snow White (1937), Disney musical films have often centered on the coming-of-age experiences of young girls; however, the reliance on fairy tale models has often meant a highly conservative structure in which the girl “is won” rather than “wins.” The modern rebirth of the Disney musical with The Little Mermaid (1989) prefigures the 1990s rise of stories of girls’ finding their voices (both literal and metaphorical), often based on literary sources or true stories. In these films, music has a significant narrative role, since the “journey” is so often inward and therefore difficult to portray in image and action. Brave (2012) and Frozen (2013) build on traditional inward/spiraling “girl” storytelling tropes by doubling them with more external, linear “boy” trajectories. In both, two female characters orbit each other along their journeys. Brave is a sense-and-sensibility tale in which Merida already has a strong sense of self, and she and her mother learn from each other and bond (established with parallel songs at beginning and end). In Frozen (loosely based on Hans Christian Andersen’s The Snow Queen), the elder of the two royal sisters was originally written as a villain; after the songwriters delivered “Let It Go,” they report that the producers’ response was that “Elsa could no longer be a villain.” The emotive power of the song had deformed the narrative and dominates the film’s reception. The younger Anna rescues Elsa to rescue their kingdom; however, the price is the symbolic palace of selfhood that Elsa constructs during the extended prolongation of the song’s bridge. “Let It Go” is also in a line of showtunes from “Nobody’s Side” from Chess to “Defying Gravity” from Wicked, all associated with singer Idina Menzel and sharing musical traits that suspend the tonic between the dominant and subdominant poles, blurring harmonic drive, and giving the voice particular agency. “Let It Go” is the simplest of these, sitting well in even untrained voices, making it particularly gratifying for the many young girls who sing along to the movie and, in astonishing numbers, on YouTube.","PeriodicalId":193833,"journal":{"name":"Voicing the Cinema","volume":"4 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2020-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"127875188","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Vococentrism and Sound in Ingmar Bergman’s The Magic Flute","authors":"M. Citron","doi":"10.5406/j.ctvz0hcn6.9","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/j.ctvz0hcn6.9","url":null,"abstract":"Bergman’s Magic Flute (1975) is one of the highlights of opera-film. It represents a splendid example of Bergman’s mastery of image and film technique, and a memorable interpretation of Mozart’s late opera. Except for chapters by Jeongwon Joe (1998) and Jeremy Tambling (1987), it has been underrepresented in research on opera-film. There is much more to be said, especially with respect to sound. Not only are Flute’s sound practices critical to the film, but its emphasis on vococentrism is unusual for an opera-film and also connects Flute to Bergman’s cinema as a whole. Many elements in the soundscape contribute to Bergman’s highly personal interpretation. One is the dry environment in the passages of spoken dialogue, recorded live and its contrast with the warmer environment in the musical numbers, which were prerecorded. The spoken sections impart a sense of intimacy and interiority, qualities found in other Bergman films, such as Persona, The Seventh Seal, and The Hour of the Wolf. Ambient noise occurs in some places, its use linked to certain moods and situations. Variations in the resonance of the vocal music add another element to the mix. This chapter focuses on three places in Flute. The second tableau, numbers 1-5, uses sound to delineate the juxtaposition of theater and cinema and establish a link between dry speech and interioirity. In the scene of Tamino’s crisis at “O ew’ge Nacht,” an expanded array of effects, including the acousmêtre and reverberation in addition to dryness, limn Tamino’s psyche and underscore a key moment of the opera. And at Pamina’s parental crisis in the first half of Act II, silence as well as sound plays an integral role. The striking sound design of Bergman and his team is crucial to the film’s aesthetic style, in which “less is more,” and its reputation as a landmark of opera-film.","PeriodicalId":193833,"journal":{"name":"Voicing the Cinema","volume":"6 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2020-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"124680047","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"FM Radio and the New Hollywood Soundtrack","authors":"Julie Hubbert","doi":"10.5406/j.ctvz0hcn6.7","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/j.ctvz0hcn6.7","url":null,"abstract":"In studio production between the mid-1960s and early 1980s, the period often referred to as “New Hollywood,” the music soundtrack was the site of significant upheaval. As box office revues continued to plummet, the studios allowed filmmakers greater freedom to experiment with narrative structures and with soundtrack conventions. Specifically, they allowed directors to exert new control over film music, which they did often by jettisoning new composed orchestral scores in favor of compilations of preexisting, recorded music. Film music scholars have long acknowledged this shift, but few have recognized the degree to which the new soundtrack practices that emerged in the New Hollywood period were also the result of radical shifts in popular music and contemporary listening practices. By looking at two films from the early 1970s, Zabriskie Point (1971) and The Strawberry Statement (1970, this article considers the degree to which progressive rock, FM radio, and countercultural listening practices changed not only the content of film soundtracks but also the placement of music in film, unseating long-standing sound hierarchies and privileging music in new ways.","PeriodicalId":193833,"journal":{"name":"Voicing the Cinema","volume":"56 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2020-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"131580144","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Voicing the CinemaPub Date : 2020-03-01DOI: 10.5622/illinois/9780252043000.003.0013
{"title":"Monocentrism, or Soundtracks in Space","authors":"","doi":"10.5622/illinois/9780252043000.003.0013","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5622/illinois/9780252043000.003.0013","url":null,"abstract":"This chapter investigates how the introduction of stereo complicated Hollywood’s vococentric practices. It also reveals how sound technicians developed mixing techniques that preserved the salience of dialogue in multi-channel soundscapes. The author refers to such techniques as monocentrism and illustrates monocentric norms by analyzing the climactic scene from The Martian (2015). The chapter then examines how technicians often play with these norms in order to change the meaning of a given sequence. To demonstrate this phenomenon, the author analyzes the Louis and Bebe Barrons’s score to Forbidden Planet (1956) and argues that MGM’s rerecording engineers mixed the musical effects so that they panned to different locations within each theater, which thereby invited audiences to interpret these sounds as the voices of the film’s invisible monsters.","PeriodicalId":193833,"journal":{"name":"Voicing the Cinema","volume":"10 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2020-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"116586152","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Voicing the CinemaPub Date : 2020-03-01DOI: 10.5622/illinois/9780252043000.003.0009
{"title":"The Trouble with Onscreen Orchestrators","authors":"","doi":"10.5622/illinois/9780252043000.003.0009","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5622/illinois/9780252043000.003.0009","url":null,"abstract":"An orchestrator elopes with a composer’s beloved and then dies, leaving behind a pregnant widow and an incomplete melody. Discouraged but not defeated, the composer proposes, offering to adopt the orchestrator’s child and melody. Just before the composer conducts his new arrangement of the orphaned theme, a child is born. This synopsis describes one plot line within the Warner Bros. film, Four Daughters (1938), and its sequel, Four Wives (1939). Loosely based on a story by Fannie Hurst, the Four Daughters films appear fashioned specifically for musicological musing. But if the films’ intertwined creative crises receive a pat resolution, the film’s production was less tidy. This essay lends a careful ear to the offscreen voices of studio staff whose dissensions and compromises inflect the musical content and onscreen musicians of the films. Screenwriter Lenore Coffee, who replaced an “unreal and ridiculous” contortionist character with an orchestrator, waged battle with male colleagues for credit and narrative control. Collaborative construction of the fictional compositions—credited to Max Steiner but based on themes written by Heinz Roemheld and Max Rabinowitsch—was also initially muffled. After the onscreen orchestrator’s unfinished “Symphonie Moderne” became a central plot point, Steiner and his colleagues were impelled to concede, even celebrate, their shared compositional efforts more publicly. Drawing on sketches from the Max Steiner Collection (BYU) as well as scripts and production documents from the Warner Bros. Archives (USC), this paper considers how battles over creative control were waged through the conception, composition, and onscreen depiction of a musical work that became an unlikely vessel for anxieties over Hollywood’s intensely collaborative methods.","PeriodicalId":193833,"journal":{"name":"Voicing the Cinema","volume":"1 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2020-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"129574891","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}